My Golden Snitch
by KennethRose
Summary: The final battle between Harry and Voldemort goes a little differently than expected, and a small, petite, amber-eyed seer makes a decision that will change her entire world, and the entire course of history. Harry/Alice, Edward/Bella, Rose/Emmett, Jasper/OC, Carlisle/Esme. Ensure you read FOREWORD before reading. SLOW UPDATES.
1. FOREWORD

Hello readers! Before you begin reading this fanfiction, I feel I should warn you of some things before you start.

If you are against modifying some (just a couple of things) of the **Twilight lore** , especially tweaks to some of the characters' backstories, then I would recommend you don't read this story. While in the canon universe Alice is 'soul-mates' and married with/to Jasper Hale, the same cannot be said in this story.

If you couldn't tell by the pairing, the main romance in this fiction is Harry Potter/Alice Cullen. As I don't want to bash the crap out of Jasper to make him out to be a hate-worthy jackass in order to facilitate the pairing, having him in more of a platonic relationship with Alice seemed more appropriate. Other than that, there really isn't that much of the Twilight lore that I'll change. Interactions between all characters will be slightly different due to Harry's presence and influence, but as one could probably already tell: this story is rather AU.

Bell will still be Edward's 'singer', and many of the same problems and events throughout the trilogy will occur, but the speed of the outcomes and the methods used to achieve them will be different thanks to the presence of magic. This is a Harry Potter/Twilight crossover people, and I'll be trying to meld the two worlds as best I can – though this story will mostly take place in the Twilight timeline.

As for the **Harry Potter** groupies, here's your warnings. From the Harry Potter books, I don't like Dumbledore very much. From the movie The Crimes of Grindelwald, I love him – Jude Law being a very inspired choice in my mind. But as to his handling of Harry? No. Harry, even in the movies for _kids_ was treated no better than a slave by the Dursleys. That Dumbledore admitted to knowing this after revealing the prophesy 'ground my gears'.

So, his brief appearance will not be flattering to him at all, you have been warned.

Next, Hermione Granger. Now, I'm a H/Hr shipper _big_ time, but only in cases where she wizens up, drops the authority worship, and becomes a bit less pushy. I've written several H/Hr fics, several unpublished, and I love the pairing, seriously… but Hermione's going to get a bad wrap in this, sorry folks. Her annoying/undesirable traits such as 'books are always right' and 'authority trumps all' and 'I'm always right' and… well all of that is going to be lampooned.

Ron will be a bit sketchy after discovering some things about Harry, but he'll come around. Lovers of canon pairings will be woefully disappointed – capisci? Ministry of magic? _Thoroughly_ slammed. American Ministry of Magic? Just as bigoted as the British.

Last warning: if you like stories that are small and localised (like how in Harry Potter it was Britain and that was it), this story isn't for you. Harry's actions _will_ bring about actual, wide-spread change to the world as a whole in this story (at least that's the plan). Small actions will cause tsunamis, etc.

So, if _all_ of the above doesn't send you into a fit of rage, an intense urge to send me a flame that could give Satan sunburn, or leave you in the corner of your room rocking back and forth repeating some inane phrase over and over…

Enjoy.

Kenneth


	2. PROLOGUE

**My Golden Snitch**

 **Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise or universe; so all rights belong to J. K. Rowling and affiliated companies. The same can be said of the Twilight franchise and universe; the rights of which belong to Stephanie Meyer and affiliated companies.

 **Rating:** M – Language and sex-related themes

 **Plot:** The final battle between Harry and Voldemort goes a little differently than expected, and a small, petite, amber-eyed seer makes a decision that will change her entire world, and the entire course of history.

 **Pairing:** Harry Potter/Alice Cullen

 **Warnings:** Reference FOREWORD.

 **Dedication:** I have _no_ idea where this came from. Seriously. I was reading Bella/Alice fanfics and suddenly this popped into my head. _No_ idea why. Seriously.

 **Tags:** Dumbledore, Hermione and Ministry of Magic bashing; smart, powerful, vampire!Harry; Egotistical!Quileute Tribe (to start with); greedy!power-hungry!Volturi.

 **Key**

"Regular speech"

§Parseltongue§

' _Thought'_

*Vampiric speaking; quiet and fast enough that humans cannot hear it or lip-read*

The night was murky and deep. Barely any moonlight managed to seep through the thick canopy above; the huge trees surrounding the clearing towering like guardians of the sacred ground below where mist curled along the uneven dirt – guarding the ground where the culmination of over fifty years of preparation would either be snuffed from the plane of existence, or all hope would fall.

Two shadows circled, moving slowly but with a purpose; stalking each other like two predators ready to pounce in an instant if even a shred of weakness was shown. "So, it has finally come to this," a low hiss was issued from one of the shadowed figures, notably taller than the other. "Finally, we are near your end and the beginning of all my eternity."

If the sardonic snort from the smaller shadow bothered the taller one the latter didn't show it in his movements. The voice that retorted a moment later was male; low and smooth – confident even. "Always with the melodramatics, aren't you Tom?" That did get a reaction from the taller; a small falter in his slow prowling and a quiet hiss of annoyance issuing from his mouth. "In your all-knowing confidence and arrogance – believing that you are infallible and impervious – you have brought us here to do battle, as you claim, with honour."

The smaller shadow's prowling, for the slightest moment, passed into a flittering patch of moonlight; illuminating an angular face. Stubble clung to his cheeks, chin, and neck in a dark shadow and two startlingly emerald eyes were illuminated from within for a moment as if embers had been placed behind them. Above those eyes – the glass they hid behind seeming to make them even sharper in their intensity – rested a jagged scar on the young man's brow. The moment passed, and both were shadows once more. "Ah but young Harry," came the serpentine rebuke – amusement audible in the malicious tone, "I thought to do you the honour of not disgracing your vaulted light side with seeing your death. Surely it would break the resolve in their fight. I'm doing you a favour."

For a second emerald eyes narrowed as the smirk on a thin, pale pair of lips was illuminated before disappearing back into the darkness. "Honour Tom? Favour? Your initiation rite into your Death Eaters involves the murder of a muggle family with children. And I need not say more as to what happens to them. You lost all honour long, long ago Tom.

"Your 'favour' was so that you can gloat and reveal things you would have your Death Eaters not know about your past – like you being a half-blood just as I am. How every time they kiss your robes or allow you to torture them you are all-powerful above those that consider themselves elite." The smaller shadow stopped in a beam of moonlight, prompting the taller to do the same, and emerald gaze met a malicious crimson.

The crimson eyes were sunken between serpent-like eyelids that were narrowed in distaste and anger; the man's lips twisted into a downright evil scowl that promised torture and misery and suffering to any that beheld it. His nose was all but non-existent, all that was visible were two narrow slits that flared with fury; his skin inhumanly pale with veins that almost glowed with dark magic pulsing as his control over his impulses waned.

The emerald gaze that beheld this haunting visage slitted. "Face it Tom, all you really are is a scared, bullied little boy that wasn't strong enough to weather the storm and succumbed to mutilating your body, sacrificing your humanity, and becoming an abomination to nature. Oh, and Slytherin's locket," here Tom jerked and his eyes widened as Harry's mouth slowly curved into a smirk, "Helga's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem, your diary, your father's ring, and why… I do believe Tom, your familiar Nagini… that you sent into a battle in which Neville Longbottom is fighting…" here Harry's smirk reached its fullest. "Neville Longbottom, who has a basilisk-venom-imbued sword and knows to keep an eye out for her."

The relative silence that had been maintained in the small clearing was decimated with a roar from the self-proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort.

What followed was a battle that, had it been witnessed by a historian, would have been memorialised through the ages. Jets of multi-coloured lights flew through the air at such a pace and frequency that it was hard to discern one from the other. Huge craters formed in the ground, kicking up dirt like artillery fire; trees became alight in flame and sawdust erupted from their trunks as massive gouges were cut from them.

Deadly animals came into existence and just as quickly were blown apart; huge walls of stone and ice and fire and earth erected and then fell, and sharpened metal erupted throughout like shrapnel; tearing through anything it met.

This battle, of proportions not seen since the times of Merlin and Morgana, raged for what felt like an eternity, but could scarcely have been more than ten minutes before two single things happened at the same time.

A blood-red ball of magic collided with Voldemort's left shoulder and flashed before emitting a dull, wet thud, and a jet of red hit Harry square in the chest. Voldemort roared in pain; his left arm and shoulder blowing apart as if detonated from within, while Harry's world was engulfed in blinding agony that dwarfed all thought. Unfortunately for the young man, the fury that Voldemort felt at having being bested so thoroughly in combat only fuelled the torture curse to new heights.

Harry was left writhing for several minutes, and yet he would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of a scream; only grunts escaping his lips. The Dark Lord finally tired of not getting a reaction and dropped the curse before summoning Harry's wand and catching it to rest beside his own in his only remaining hand. Throwing it dismissively over his shoulder he stemmed the bleeding from the stump that had recently held his arm to his torso. He then stalked toward the young man that had struggled to his knees, still twitching from the aftershocks of the torture curse, to watch his approach with fearless eyes, which just made Voldemort's anger surge higher.

Coming to a stop just two meters short of the kneeling young man who was struggling to keep his back straight, just in case the little bastard had any more tricks up his sleeve, he sneered. "And so ends the hope of the light – defeated, alone, his cries of agony unheard and unheeded."

Harry gave a weak chuckle, spitting a glob of blood at Voldemort which conveniently hit the man's shoe. "And yet I died with honour in my heart, my loved ones on my mind, my family in my soul, and my eighteen-year-old body only bested in a duel that lasted longer than any in the last thousand years… against a self-proclaimed Dark Lord that has eighty years of experience, dark power-raising rituals, and a demonically-enhanced body. You've gotten lazy," he finished with a smirk, and it didn't even die on his lips as a green curse impacted his chest and he was flung across the clearing before landing in a lifeless heap.

Deep amber eyes snapped open and a gasp erupted from pale rose lips in an involuntary reflex, and four heads snapped around to stare at her; their eyes eerily like her very own. A pale skinned blonde man with combed back blonde hair leaned forward concernedly, eyes conveying worry. "Alice, what did you see?"

Still trying to process the gravity and experience of what she had just witnessed all she could manage at first was a quiet and halting, "Something wrong… so wrong… so important." That was the crux of her confusion and bewilderment – it had felt wrong. All the while she watched that young man Harry engage in combat that had filled her with awe, she had felt a growing sense of dread and, in the pit of her stomach, a ball of ice slowly form.

A head of messy blonde hair encroached on her unseeing eyes, and a moment later she found herself staring into familiar amber eyes. Normally she would welcome the sight of them and the face they rested upon, but at the moment she didn't need the distraction. She cut off whatever her husband was going to say with a raised hand, and the flicker of a shadow raced across Jasper's face but he acquiesced all the same and retreated back to his chair from leaning across the table.

Alice's mind raced. Her visions usually happened in an instant of comprehension, and then she would decide how she felt about it and what to do. But not this vision. It had been unusual in several ways she had never experienced; both in its clarity, immersion, and length, but above all else when the jet of green light impacted on the unwavering young man's chest everything that she was, and the very vision itself had screamed that this was not meant to happen. When the body had been thrown back and remained unmoving – her vampiric sight not even seeing the slightest movement of breathing before the vision went dark – that feeling had intensified until it was almost overpowering.

Never in her hundred and three years of life, and unlife had she ever experienced a vision and a surety of what she needed to do at that very moment, for, in the silent room as she tried to access her sight, she found only murkiness with not even a single image flickering into her mind. Just as she had never had a vision like that, never had she been unable to divine anything either.

"Carlisle, I need the jet. Now."

Before the elder of their small clan could even provide an answer, Jasper had leapt to his feet, a frown creasing his brow. "Why?" he demanded, and she sent him a small glare; her delicate features creasing in disapproval and her pixie-cut's fringe whipping across her brow.

"I don't have time to get into it, Jasper- "

"Well then I am coming with you," he said firmly, and Alice's frown deepened, mild irritation turning into an outright glare.

"Jasper, while you and I have been best friends and companions for decades, you do not get to order me around. You are a new-born to our way of feeding, and I will be helping a mortal that has cuts and gashes all over his body from a battle I could not even begin to describe to you. As good as you are becoming being around mortals, Jasper, the smell of blood still sends you into a frenzy."

Jasper's entire countenance darkened when he heard that it was a mortal man she was so determined to go to, but Carlisle interrupted the argument before it could continue. "Jasper, Alice is right if what she said is true," he told the young vampire with a firm tone he had perfected as a doctor over centuries. He turned his gaze to Alice and stared at her sharply. "Are you sure about this, Alice? Do you truly need to do this alone?"

For a moment she hesitated and her eyes flickered across the faces of Esme, Edward, and her clan leader. Was it truly wise to face this unknown alone? Her head told her it was foolish – to face whatever that lightshow had been and a man that reeked and oozed pure evil alone was a fool's errand… and yet in her heart she knew it was a journey she had to take alone. It was her gift that had shown her this; her gift that had all but screamed that this travesty simply must be stopped… and if there was one thing Alice always did it was act from the heart.

Against Jasper's increasingly vocal and bitter protests, Alice was speeding towards the Victoria International Airport with her foot to the floor at two in the morning; the only reason she made it safely in just half an hour she thanked her vampiric reflexes and night-sight for.

Driving straight into the terminal, with only a quick flash of her passport to the gate guard, she drove straight up to the hurriedly prepared Gulfstream, threw the keys to the waiting valet, and immediately boarded. The steps were immediately raised back into the aircraft and Alice sat down on a chair, declining a drink from the smiling blonde lady acting as the air-crew as politely as she could while her anxiety grew every single solitary second longer it took for the pilots to conduct their pre-flight checks. She had never regretted so much not taking piloting lessons at some point in her life, because she knew that with her vampiric speed she could have the minutes it took down to single-digits.

Finally, they smoothly taxied onto the runway and she unclenched her hands from the arm-rest, hoping that the flight-attendant didn't notice how the metal had bent under the enormous pressure of her fingers. The next seven hours felt like they dragged by with aching slowness, even more so when, after the flight attendant had turned the lights of so that Alice could 'sleep' she found that her foresight was still not showing her anything but a murky darkness. Finally getting fed up of doing nothing she picked up the satellite phone and started making preparations for her arrival.

The moment she stepped off the plane she was whisked through customs, quite easy considering her only luggage was a small backpack containing the essentials, picked up a rental car that had kindly been delivered by the closest Aston Martin dealer for a four-figure tip, and sped off into the early evening light – thanking the powers that be that it was a very drizzly and overcast day.

As she sped along the relatively deserted roads she let her gift guide her, just as it had to Scotland. While it wasn't showing her anything, it was as if it was nudging her in the right direction – almost like a soft caress against her mind. At over 200mph Alice hadn't anticipated getting to where she would need to proceed on foot would take long, and her predictions proved correct when just half an hour later she stopped the car on a silent country road next to huge, looming trees that formed a dense forest. Throwing her backpack over her shoulder and not even bothering to lock the car she leapt into the quickly darkening overgrowth.

Bounding up onto the first row of branches she hopped from one to the next as a blur, and yet her footfalls as silent as the quiet wind brushing the leaves around her together. Spotting her prey, she dove; her 25ft drop halting as her legs came either side of an unaware doe's neck before twisting sharply to the right; a loud, bony crack echoing out as the animal collapsed as if a puppet with its strings cut.

While her heart told her to not dally on feeding, for once she told herself that facing such an evil with unknown but awe-inspiringly destructive powers without having fed for five days would be incredibly foolish. A mere minute later she was flitting between the trees once more; her amber eyes even darker than usual with her hunger having been sated. Her legs were a blur; petite, athletic thighs and calves that would look more at home on a ballerina propelling herself forwards at speeds that she was well aware could almost match that of the car she had just been driving. Leaping upwards and then launching herself high above the moonlit canopy her sharp eyes scoured the treetops as she spun in a full circle at her apex… and just as gravity took hold, she saw it.

The second the toes of her left foot touched down on the first branch they met, curling inwards to gain traction, her entire being was launched towards where the faintest flickers of light had pierced upwards from underneath the canopy. In seconds the scene from her vision that she had so vividly been replaying over and over in her head appeared before her; becoming larger and larger at each millisecond that passed.

And her eyes widened in utter horror when she saw the green light impact the young man's chest.


	3. CHAPTER 1

Dying and waking up naked was not how Harry Potter thought his first experience in the afterlife would go, nor was being in that state of dress, or undress as the case may be, on a remarkably clean looking platform nine and three quarters with the vibrant Hogwarts Express hissing softly awaiting its passengers.

Curling up into a sitting position he took stock of his situation and really wished he had clothes when he saw a white-haired and robed man approaching; eyes twinkly as ever. "Harry my boy," the man smiled in his grandfatherly manner, "I see you have already discovered one of the wonders of the next great adventure."

Following the twinkling gaze Harry found himself clothed and snorted quietly. ' _If this is heaven then I daresay the good Father wouldn't approve of old men looking at naked teen boys.'_

As if the elderly headmaster had heard Harry's thoughts aloud the man's smile became strained for a moment before melting back into its former state as he took a seat on one of the platform benches – motioning that Harry should join him.

Getting to his feet, surprising himself at the lack of aches and pains that he had expected after being murdered, Harry walked over and sat' observing Dumbledore's serene expression as he gazed at the Express fondly. "You far surpassed all my expectations, my boy," he admitted candidly, and Harry's eyebrows rose at the confession. Seeing Harry's look out of his peripheries, Dumbledore turned his eyes to the younger man's and endeavoured to explain. "While I have been here I have caught only glimpses of your struggles as you fought to defeat Tom, but that which I did see only confirmed all I knew and know of your character Harry.

"You have such a strong penchant for forgiveness, as I have always known, and show mercy and care in even the most trying circumstances. That, I always knew, was and is your greatest strength. Hate consumes wholly, my boy, and to let that animosity go is a credit to your character; a credit I myself cannot lay claim to when I was fighting Grindelwald in the nineteen forties." He smiled sadly and then returned his eyes to the Hogwarts Express once more; his expression grim. "My mentor that led me in my defeat of Gellert worked me hard – past exhaustion in many cases. My sacrifices were many… my sister, my innocence, my family and my friends

"When Gellert fell to my wand I only felt immense hatred towards the man who had helped me achieve the feat. A year later I discovered that he had been gravely injured in the final battle and had been sending me owls requesting I visit him on his deathbed so that he could apologise for his mistakes and for stripping me of so much of my childhood and teenage years. Ever since that moment I have and still wish I had not ignored those summonses and hated him for so long… let alone at all."

Dumbledore swivelled his body slightly to face Harry and stared him sorrowfully in the eyes; pale blue meeting vivid emerald. "Forgive me, my dear boy. I knew, and you know I knew, that by placing you at the Dursleys I condemned you to their abhorrent treatment of you – but to have you grow up aware of your fame and becoming arrogant would have made you a lesser man than you are now. And what a man is sat before me.

Alice's un-beating heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she watched, horrified, the purpose of her being there was flung bodily and violently across the clearing, only to collide with a wet and sickening crunch against a tree before coming to a rest motionless in a heap. Alice, from the very beginning of her life as a vampire, had considered her self-control exceptional, and yet the anger that welled up in her throat and shook her small fame was unfathomable in its intensity.

She felt venom pooling in her mouth and her fangs extend, and a deep, throaty roar erupted from her throat; a sound that one would not consider such a small woman capable of. The Dark Lord Voldemort only had time to hear the beginning of the sound, and feel the soul-consuming terror that it elicited, before his head was ripped from his shoulders from the force of the blow from a small, feminine palm. Her pained roar petered off as her momentum crushed the head into the ground – rendering it into little more than a chunky, bloody smear against the dirt, and she immediately spun and rushed towards the fallen body.

A fraction of a second later she had the young man's head cradled in her lap and she looked despairingly down at his rugged features; marred with dirt and blood and yet still with his confident grin turning his lips upwards. So deep was her despair at failing Harry, the overwhelmingly intoxicating scent of his blood that, had she not been so emotionally overcome with anguish, would have sent her into a frenzy went unheeded.

Had she been able to cry she would have.

She did not know this man. Did not know of his ideals, his morals, his convictions and goals. Didn't know of his odd powers or why he fought so desperately, and yet the words he had spoken before fighting the evil man lying headless behind her had resonated deeply. He had been a good man; loyal and pure, even while fighting to kill. And she had failed him, and that filled her with a sadness she hadn't thought possible to feel.

And as she closed her eyes as she brushed his hair away from those alluring, unseeing emerald orbs something more than his words resonated through her entire being.

 _Ba-dum…_

Amber eyes snapped open.

Harry was a little speechless after his mentor's heartfelt confession. He hadn't expected it, and while the apology was, in his opinion, well overdue, there was something in how Dumbledore was acting and his timing with such words that stopped him from jumping the gun and doing what he had always done in instantly accepting the apology and giving exactly what the man was asking for.

"You truly did belong in Slytherin, Albus Percival," came a rasping hack from behind them, and both Harry and said man spun around – the latter's face draining of blood and mouth twisting in terror.

Harry, on the other hand, instantly knew who – or rather what – was standing behind the bench. Faintly resembling a dementor in appearance, the towering figure was caped in a pristine black robe with only shadow contained within its hood. While not eliciting the same feelings as a dementor would produce, the being seemed to command respect, and if the presence didn't command it then the huge scythe it held in its left almost-skeletal hand would.

After Death's unseen eyes peered judgingly down at Dumbledore for several seconds the hood turned to Harry and gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "Harry James."

Trying not to stutter in the presence of a divine being Harry nodded back. "Death."

Turning its attention back to the trembling form of the elderly headmaster, Death let out a rattle of annoyance. "Truly Albus Percival," it intoned in a spine-chilling rasp, "you are one of the despicable ones I relish in taking to the afterlife. Seeking to provoke an utterance of forgiveness from the one to whom you have done so much wrong… all to cause my decision on where to send you to become invalid."

"Eh?" Harry questioned eloquently, and Death's hood once more turned to him.

"Harry James, you are dead – as I am sure you have already surmised." At Harry's nod he continued, "Your vaulted ex-headmaster would have you free him of my sentencing of hell for his inhuman actions against you, only to allow you to fall to hell yourself thanks to that soul shard of Tom Marvolo imbedded in your skull."

Harry's head snapped around to face Dumbledore, who was looking paler than a ghost and was staring anywhere but at either of them. " _What?_ " he hissed darkly, "What the _fuck_ is going on here?"

The venom in Harry's voice prompted a wince from the old man, but he didn't speak. Death, it seemed, was more than happy to explain on the headmaster's behalf. "Yes," Death's voice grated, "Albus Percival knew that he would face me before his 'next great adventure'. With your blanket forgiveness of his actions against you – known or unknown, and trust me Harry James, there is much he has perpetrated against you that you do _not_ know – he would be released of his sins and sent to the pure place."

Flicking a venomous glare at Dumbledore for a moment – prompting yet another wince – e returned his gaze into the never-ending dark contained within Death's hood. "And what of _my_ going to hell? What the bloody heck have I done to deserve that?"

"Not you, Harry James, but the… what is the word you mortals use? Ah yes, Tom Marvolo's _horcrux_ that he unknowingly created in that distinctive scar of yours. That soul is so entwined with your own, you would share the same fate as it."

Harry caught the small twitch of a smile on Dumbledore's lips at that revelation, and gritted his teeth. "Excuse me for a moment, Death."

Spinning around in a full one-eighty and, as he'd been trained, really putting his hips into it as he twisted to standing, his clenched fist powered into Dumbledore's jaw. The man was flung off the bench from the sheer force of the blow as the crack of broken bone echoed out over the quiet hissing of the steam engine. Shaking his smarting hand and then ignoring the pathetic groaning of the downed man with a now-broken jaw, he spat, "Oh get over it you pathetic excuse of a man – I'd had worse than that before I was _five_."

"Alas, young Harry James," Death rattled with a sandpaper chuckle, "I said you _would_ share the same fate as that abomination… however…" Harry could have sworn that if there was a face under that hood it was grinning maliciously.

Alice Cullen was beyond words. The head resting on her lap, belonging to the man with eyes that would make a carat of emerald jealous with their intensity – even dull and lifeless as they were – felt and _looked_ dead. But there had been no mistaking it; she had felt the dual thud of his carotid against the inside of her knee, and as week as it had been it might as well have felt like a sledgehammer strike. And that _sound_ ; the ba-dum and the concurrent sound of blood rushing through veins and arteries with a quiet swish was simply _unmistakable_.

His eyes were glazed and unblinking; his chest deathly still; his body cooling with every passing second… but that had been all the hope she needed. Somehow, somehow, the man lying lifeless on her lap was still there – just; hanging on by but a rapidly weakening thread. With a blur of movement, she was knelt beside him and lowering his head softly onto the pine needles underneath; venom already pooling in her mouth, and the woman once known as Mary Alice Brandon made – albeit unbeknownst to her – the most important decision of her eternal life.

From his position on the ground, his jaw cradled gingerly in his wrinkled hands, Dumbledore had held in his groans of agony to eavesdrop on the conversation between the only person that could save him from hell and Death itself – and judging by the 'waiting for the shoe to drop' expression on young Harry's face, the little bastard was just as confused as he was by Death's words.

That was until Harry Potter collapsed to his knees and let out a soul-chilling, unearthly scream as he clutched at his head. Dumbledore couldn't, or rather didn't want to, comprehend what he was seeing as black ichor erupted from between the teen's fingers and formed a churning puddle at the feet of Death itself. As if his strings had been cut, Harry collapsed to his side; the scream from his lips muffling into desperate attempts to draught air into his heaving lungs. Death stared down at the puddle that begun to churn even more desperately with, dare Albus think it, amusement?

When the black discharge surged upwards and coalesced into a very familiar figure with sharp, demonic eyes Dumbledore's jaw very painfully dropped in horror. "Fool!" came the venomous hiss from an elderly Tom Riddle; hair greying at the temples, as he beheld Death with not an ounce of fear. "You think to take me from my rightful immortality? Avada Kedavra!" he roared at almost point-blank range. The spell collided with Death, who rattled a jagged laugh loose from its throat.

"And you, Tom Marvolo, think you can challenge me?" Without waiting for a response Death, with a blindingly fast movement, scythed Riddle's wand in half, earning a roar of anger from the self-proclaimed Lord. Not even considering the consequences of his action, only thinking of the threat this being before him posed to his immortality, Voldemort drew in every single ounce of power and energy from the dark marks tethered to his magical core and, with a wordless cry of primal fury, held out his hand and released it all at the cloaked figure directly in front of him.

To Tom and Dumbledore's utter disbelief, as Harry was still recovering from the agony experienced at the expulsion of the horcrux, Death didn't move a single solitary millimetre. Not until its emaciated and diseased hand erupted forward and snatched Voldemort around the neck in an iron grip. Harry opened his eyes just in time to see Death tear a void open in mid-air and hurl the Dark Lord through it, screaming the whole way as flames belched out of the darkness.

"Holy shit," was Harry's hoarse murmur to that action, and Death hacked out a chuckle itself.

"More _un_ -holy, Harry James." Dumbledore froze when Death turned to regard him with its crushing presence, and tried to scramble backwards when the imposing figure all but glided towards him. Escape, Harry mused to himself – still rather miffed as to just _why_ and _how_ Voldemort had been ejected from his forehead – was really an exercise in futility considering they were in the realm governed by Death itself.

Sure as Harry's thoughts, Death had Dumbledore by the neck just as he had Tom Riddle mere seconds before within moments; the old man's hands coming up to desperately try and pry the deity's fingers away from his windpipe – his efforts becoming increasingly more frantic as he saw the portal nearing with every second. "No!" he managed to gasp, only to get a dry, "Yes," from Death.

Casting his eyes desperately to Harry, his eyes begging for him to show mercy, the young man shakily stood to his feet and cleared his throat. Death paused in his glide towards the portal, however his grip on Dumbledore's throat did not lessen. Death seemed to anticipate Harry's unspoken question and gave a rough exhale of breath that Harry guessed was some expression of amusement or exasperation.

"Such curious creatures you humans are Harry James, but I suppose you have been kept in the dark enough, and I shan't stoop to Albus Percival's antics and riddles. Fate, it would seem Harry James, is… very pleased with you. You and another that you shall meet soon hence – a Mary Alice. As so much has been taken, the same must be returned – the balance of things, you understand.

"You were never destined for my guidance this day, Harry James, nor for a long, very long time… if at all. As Lily Marie and James Fleamont's murderer sought through destruction, hate and conflict, you shall receive through an act of selfless love, loyalty and the desire Fate has to give you what you have always wanted. Love, affection, loyalty returned, freedom and family.

"For many decades now, Fate's unknowing operative on the earthly plane has suffered for her glimpses into the future, and she is _exceptionally_ pleased with how Mary Alice has had the resilience to always do what is right… and not what is easy. Just as she is, in this case, _your_ salvation Harry James… and more, you will find that you are hers in ways you cannot yet comprehend. Her time of being Fate's messenger on Earth is done; no more will she suffer through the pains of seeing what is to come. When you see her, Harry James, tell her that the powers that be are _very_ pleased with her – just as we are pleased with _you_."

Dawning realisation and horror begun to twist Dumbledore's face, while Harry was equal parts confused and lightly blushing at Death's words. "No!" Dumbledore gasped desperately, "No! He cannot- "

The last sight and sound Harry saw before his world was engulfed in the most fierce, blinding and otherworldly pain he had ever experienced was Death groaning in irritation, "Oh do shut up, you old coot," before the pale, horrified, swollen-jawed visage of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was sent hurtling through the breach to hell.

Forcing herself to not think about the most delicious flavour she had ever tasted that still lingered in her mouth, she waited. Only the quiet rustle of the canopy above permeated the still, fog-ridden air, and the pale, lifeless body, once again with his head in her lap, was the centre of her world at that moment.

Alice was terrified she had been too late in injecting the young man with her venom – gods but she hoped she hadn't been, and a moment later an odd feeling of mixed guilt and elation rushed through her still veins as Harry Potter's back arched sharply upwards; his face a visage of pain unimaginable to most. The scream that tore from his throat a moment later made Alice's heart almost break. She only vaguely remembered her own turning; the memories of it had probably been repressed, Carlisle had once told her, but if that scream was anything to go by then she was silently glad that she _couldn't_ remember.

When she lifted him into her arms his entire being remained rigidly arched, and she winced at the sheer volume and suffering contained within his constant screams. With her foot she dragged together a soft bed of pine needles and carefully lay him on it before brushing her cold hand over his feverish brow once more, almost as if assuring herself and him that they were both there; alive in each their own ways, soon to be the same. Looking around the clearing, her sharp eyes easily piercing the murky darkness, she got to work.

Had Harry been aware enough to see, or had anyone else been watching, they would liken the sight of the shelter being built to a time-lapse film. Alice was a blur as she sped around the clearing tearing bark off trees, erupting upwards into the canopy to grab leaf-covered branches, and gathering more pine needles that she gently built into the bed that Harry was screaming from. Within mere minutes a more than respectable shelter had been constructed, and Alice sat down next to Harry; her back against the tree she had used to anchor the small bivvy. For hours she gently ran her cool hand over his burning forehead hoping that her presence was giving him at least a little comfort.

Smiling softly, she watched as the lightning-bolt shaped scar became slightly fainter. His skin, from what she remembered of the vision that had led to this entire journey, had always been pale, but she could see it very slowly lightening into what would one day be a flawless porcelain. What concerned her however, was that his screaming had lessened in volume and intensity. Because of the change she knew that it wasn't because he'd damaged his vocal chords from the screaming; the developing vampiric healing would have taken care of that… so why on Earth did he sound to be in less pain?

Harry gritted his teeth as he glared at the huge wall he was erecting. Built of a mirror-like obsidian, block by block he toiled. "This goddamned pain'd better bloody stop when this is done," he grumbled to himself as he worked at levitating the huge blocks.

He had awoken in his mindscape what felt like days ago. Funny how it took what he suspected was a vampiric transformation to get him here when Snape hadn't managed in a year's worth of 'lessons'. Then again, Harry had never thought the greasy git had ever really considered them lessons. Harry was pretty sure the main goal in those 'detentions' was to dredge up his worst memories so that Snape could taunt him about them.

The pain he had come aware to had been overwhelming at first, until he had, through sheer force of will, all but ordered a protego around his foetal form. Oh, the pain was still there; still almost crippling in fact – Harry wasn't about to sugar-coat that fact – but it was just, _just_ , manageable enough that he could concentrate. And concentrate he had.

His mindscape had naturally conformed to the first place he had every called home. Hogwarts towered high in his mindscape, and it was being besieged by pain beyond all understanding coming from far beyond its walls. So, Harry was building a bigger wall. Made of obsidian. _Very_ polished and reflective obsidian; massive room-sized blocks of it.

With every block placed it would flash-become molten and then cool back to a solid just as quickly resulting in a seamless expanse of inky blackness – not a join or imperfection in sight.

In a dome.

That was the hardest part, Harry thought. The walls he had completed in five mind-days; they spanned from the far shore of the Black Lake all the way to the hills behind Hogwarts. That had been easy – but making his protections into a _dome_ was a hell of a lot harder. The angles of the blocks had to be precise, and he had to keep every single block in the overhang levitated at the same time until the arch from the exact opposite side had met it, else gravity would take hold and the entire construct would fall. He sat back and sighed tiredly as his very first arch over the top of his mind flashed and every single block fused flawlessly.

Rubbing his eyes and shaking himself out he raised his hands up once more. "One down, only a few thousand to go…"

Alice really was concerned now. Just minutes before, Harry's screams had petered off into grunts of pain and his back had relaxed; now only violent twitches torturing his increasingly more muscular frame.

She had never heard of this happening during a turn, and she hazarded that Carlisle hadn't either. The pain of the turn was meant to last until the moment the heart stopped and the vampiric venom had finished its work. She had the feeling that she was witnessing the first time in history that this had happened during a turning, and the thought that she had done something wrong laboured her thoughts.

It had been nearly a day since she had bitten Harry and she had left his side only once to feed, but she knew that she had to risk him relapsing into agony and get to civilization where she could ask an expert; an ex-Volturi in fact, what the hell was happening.

Picking Harry's body up off his makeshift bed she cradled him easily in her arms and sped through the forest once more, following the path that she had taken a day before. Coming to the road she wasn't surprised to see the unlocked Aston Martin still sitting there untouched. The countryside was a relatively quiet place, and this road especially – almost in the middle of nowhere. She gently lay him down in the back seat, cradling his cheek for a moment before blurring around to the driver's door and hopping in.

The GPS guided her to a small, rustic town and, after pulling over and asking one of the locals, she found herself driving down a long driveway to a farmstead. The owner quite happily informed her that virtually all of his cottages were available thanks to it being the off-season, and a wad of cash quickly ensure them a quiet, isolated place to wait out the change.

As she lay Harry down on the large king bed in the room, she took a moment to finally behold him outside of a warzone. His face was uncharacteristically relaxed for a person going through the change, and his stubble was more pronounced than it had been in the vision. His face was angular, almost aristocratic, and yet in an understated way rugged as well. The wrinkles between his eyebrows that were slowly fading told her that he had frowned a lot in his short life, and yet there were smile lines at the edges of his lips as well.

His hair, well that she almost laughed to herself about. She had the feeling that it'd always looked like that, not just after a battle. Alice snorted quietly – pulled through a gorse bush backwards described the style quite aptly. Or caught in a hurricane. Her bell-like laugh tinkled out in the quiet room before she quieted with a small smile – that'd quickly become a non-issue with the turn.

His clothes were in tatters after the fierce battle he had partaken of, but even though the clothing was baggy she could see that his frame was much like that of a swimmer. Nothing like Emmett who made devoted body-builders blush in shame, rather more like a gymnast. Tall, lean, broad shoulders, lithe, and yet with well-toned muscles ready to explode into action at a second's notice.

His hands looked calloused, yet another thing that would be changing soon… so much would be changing for him soon, Alice mused. Heading to the kitchen she wet a towel and came back out just as his body gave another violent spasm. She winced, wondering what was going on in his head, but quickly shook off the thought and stripped him down to his boxers intending to wipe him down of all the grime and dirt, only to gape.

Ignoring for the moment the delicious physique in front of her, which Alice refused to admit to herself was _incredibly_ hard to do, it was the scars that captured her focus. Looking to his face she shook her head in disbelief – he couldn't be older than eighteen. _No_ eighteen-year-old should have scarring like that.

A large patch of scar-tissue rested on the inside of his right bicep in the shape of a circle, and considering he was a day into the turn already she knew it must have looked far more prominent in years past. There was a long scar that curved from underneath his armpit to just above his navel and another that crossed it from the base of his neck and over his chest. When she rolled him over, she couldn't hold back the gasp that she quickly hid behind her hand; taking a step back as if she had been physically pushed.

His _entire_ back was a crisscrossed lattice of scars – both thick and thin – all the way from his shoulders to underneath his boxers. They curved a little around his sides as well, and Alice just couldn't believe what she was seeing. She wasn't an idiot – she knew exactly what scars like that meant and where they came from.

' _What has this man been through?_ ' she wondered to herself. ' _No man should still be sane after a life resulting in this… and yet when he spoke in that vision, he was nothing but determined and… good._ ' Shaking her head as if to rid herself of her musings she carefully wiped down his back of all the grime and sweat – unable to help herself from caressing a couple of scars while she did. ' _Just checking to see how much they've got to go until they're all gone,_ ' she lied to herself.

"Thank fucking Merlin that's done," Harry gasped, covered in sweat. How one could even work up a sweat in their own mind he didn't know, but he felt as if he'd just run a marathon. Waving his hand, the pitch-black darkness was pierced by a thousand glowing lights on the dome above, and a huge orb resembling the moon cast a gentle, calming light across the Hogwarts grounds.

It had taken him what felt like weeks to finish his mental shield, and it wasn't hard now to make them thicker by allowing molten metal and rock to defy gravity and coat the dome from the inside, which was what he was watching now. With the pain no longer torturing him he would devote all his attention to building his mindscape to be the most defended in the world…. At least that was his goal; he had nothing better to do in this place.

Sighing and heading inside Hogwarts, allowing the molten layers of his shield to carry on unattended, he moved to his favourite armchair in the Gryffindor common-room and peered down at where his hand rested on the smooth wood with a frown of thought. "This is my mind…" he pondered to himself, "and there's nobody here to tell me rules, or to stop me from doing whatever the hell I want I guess…" He thought for a few more moments and then gave a downright cheeky grin. "So, I guess I'm God in here…"


	4. CHAPTER 2

**A/N:** So there was a request from a reader that I list a cast for this story; how I see the characters. In a word, canon. The Twilight characters I see as they are in the movies (though Edward perhaps a little less creepily make-upped), and Alice with the look she had in the first movie; not she truly-pixie cut she had in the later ones. As for Harry, Danielle Radcliffe with vampire-like perfection, perhaps with a physique similar to Michael Phelps. If that doesn't mesh with your expectations, feel free to see the characters however you like.

Listen Jasper, I _need_ to talk to Carlisle _now_ ," Alice explained, exasperated. She had been arguing with her companion for over five minutes in an attempt to get him to put Carlisle on the phone, but the demands for information were getting to be more than a little frustrating.

"Alice, you ran off after demanding a plane, flew to _Scotland_ of all places, and all because of a vision you won't tell me about apart from that it included a _mortal_ _man_ , and I'm not meant to demand to know what's going on. Is that what I'm hearing?"

' _Okay, when he puts it like that it does sound like a bit of a cop-out on my part,_ ' she mused to herself. "Look, Jasper, I know I have you worried here. Short of it is that I had a vision of a battle I couldn't even describe to you it was so awe-inspiring. In it, the man – _Harry_ – was fighting this… thing. He called it Tom, but he couldn't pass for a human- well, you get the picture.

"Right, so you're with this… Harry now, I suppose?"

The accusatory tone in his voice finally made her snap. "Considering I bit him and he's currently going through the darn change, Jasper, yes! Of course I'm bloody with him!"

The silence on the other side of the line was almost deafening in its intensity, until a low growl came from the speaker. "You bloody what Alice? You turned him?"

Knowing that when Jasper got in such a state she'd hear no reason she simply hung up and called a different number from her cell. After half a ring the line clicked, and she smiled at hearing Carlisle's voice. "Alice," his warm voice greeted, and she could almost imagine the warm smile that would be curling his lips at that moment. "I assume you have something to report?"

She couldn't help but smile and nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see. "Yes… but it is more of a question. About the change."

She heard a sharp intake of breath and knew he had already put together the pieces from the fact that she was even asking that question alone. "Very well," he said seriously after a moment, "I trust you had your reasons for turning someone. What is it?"

"He's… I'm sitting in a chair right next to him Carlisle. After less than a day into the change he just… stopped screaming and, well – I know this is going to sound impossible Carlisle – his whole body just… relaxed. I can't explain it. I've never heard of somebody going through the change without pain, so I wondered if you had?"

She could hear the light tapping of Carlisle's fingers against something wooden – his desk at work she assumed – as he thought. "Well I can't say that I have. Nothing else?"

"Well he spasms quite a bit – at first quite violently, but he just twitches occasionally now. When he stopped screaming, he was grunting in pain but that stopped about an hour ago as well."

"How does the change look to be progressing?"

She peered at the mostly-naked man on the bed fondly as she gave a small laugh, "Taking it like a champ Carlisle." She got a laugh in return for that comment. "His heart rate is up to one hundred and forty, his scars are fading," here her voice turned sour and angry, which she was sure Carlisle heard, but was glad when he didn't ask her to explain further. "His skin is nearly as pale as mine and his physique seems to be developing at a rapid pace."

"Don't tell me we're going to have another Emmet on our hands Alice," Carlisle joked, and Alice laughed as her short hair whipped from left to right.

"No, gods no! One is enough! No, he's more like Edward or Jasper's build – a little more developed though. Even before the change he was built like a warrior – I think the change is just enhancing what it had to begin with."

"That'd fit with what I know about the change. How long has it been since you bit him?"

Glancing at the clock she answered. "Around thirty hours… Carlisle, did I do something wrong? I've never heard of a turn like this before. And I've never heard or seen or even imagine possible the things I saw in that battle I foresaw. Carlisle, this man created wolves made of fire! He used these… beams of light to blast craters the size of cars in the ground – made knives of ice from thin air! Hell Carlisle, I even saw him transform into a bloody black panther bigger than any of the shifters in the middle of it all!"

Carlisle was deathly silent on the other side of the line. There was no sound of fingers tapping on wood. "You say the man you turned did all of that?" he almost whispered.

"That and more! I can't even explain some of the things I saw, Carlisle. And he glowed. There was this… corona of… inexplicable light and patterns I just can't even… the things I foresaw, Carlisle, would level the leaders of the Voulturi in an instant. Harry… even before the change, and disregarding the evil… thing he was fighting, is the most powerful being I've ever seen. And I don't doubt whatever it is he can do is limited to just the battlefield. I have no idea what I'm going to do when- if he wakes up. From the way you're reacting I'm in very unchartered territory right now, but if he reacts like most new-born when they awaken, I know I won't be able to fight him off. He could decimate me in a fraction of a second."

Harry peered into the never-ending expanse around him and nodded with satisfaction. Molecular lattices existed all around him, with a few free-floating orbs that he had outfitted with some extremely unpleasant countermeasures as his security drones. She obsidian shield around his mind – now more than thirty meters thick compared to its just-finished two – was, he now considered, necessary but a little cute.

No, his masterpiece was in this idea. After realizing that he was God in this world, and at sitting in that armchair and rubbing his thumb over the familiar knot in the wood of the armrest, he'd had an idea. 'Not to toot my own horn… but can anybody say genius?' he thought to himself with a smirk. If whoever was trying to get into his head was anything like the arse-hat backwards wizards he knew they'd enter his mind and arrive in his 'designated' arrival point. At least for visitors – he was God, and he'd appear wherever he damn well wanted. Then they'd see a towering, three-hundred-meter-high dome of reflective darkness, and they'd probably give up.

Barring that, if they managed to get through five meters of obsidian, fifteen of tungsten, five of titanium, and five of molecularly entwined sheets of graphene, which even Harry had to admit sounded beyond the realms of possibility, they'd then see good ol' Hogwarts and think they'd reached their goal. They'd head on inside, probably go to the library, and look in the books expecting them to be memories.

They weren't – they were traps.

He had taken some inspiration from Voldemort's sick activities during the two wars to build these traps; from turning somebody's eyeballs inside-out all the way to turning the entire person inside out. The way Harry saw it, if you came into his mind uninvited the kiddy-gloves were off and you were going to be in for a world of agony the likes of which they'd never imagined possible.

Oh, and then there was the fact that the archway of the library door forced the person entering to endure the initial pain from his vampiric transformation, at least that's what he thought was happening, times ten. If they weren't driven insane by that then they soon would be as soon as they opened any of the books.

So, at that point, if they looked anywhere else in the castle, they'd be very disappointed… and probably driven quite insane. Every book in the castle was a trap; ever piece of cutlery, every quill, every doorknob, every trunk or wand or cup or chair or bed or… well the whole place except the floor was virtually a death sentence. Even his favourite chair would be for an intruder, but not for Harry… because, as Harry had learned, he was God so no matter what he touched he wouldn't set anything off.

But more about Harry's favourite chair. That, Harry considered his masterpiece. The little knot in the wood of the armrest was not in fact an innocuous flaw in the wood. Well it had been at first, but then he'd made it more. He had shrunk himself down until he could literally see the individual atoms that made up that little flaw, and that was where he truly his mind. Each Nucleus was a memory, and the electrons whizzing around it were the emotions surrounding that memory. The lattices were organized memories; grouped by the most prominent emotion in it. To his front was a giant lattice of black that contained determination. Red to his left was anger, gold to the rear his happiness. All around him were complex chains of memories associated with an emotion, and it would make controlling himself in the future a walk in the park.

At first he had considered creating automatons that he could issue orders to in different situations to activate 'modes' like in a video game. But then he remembered that he was God. No, now his mind would automatically accelerate time to allow his subconscious hash out whatever situation he was in and then control his emotions as needed. If he was in battle then fear would probably be suppressed, but not caution and determination, for example. If he was in a social environment around people he trusted then happiness, friendship, family, and probably cheekiness would be allowed free reign, and hatred, anger, revenge, and other negative emotions would be restrained.

' _Suck on that Snape_ ', Harry smirked to himself. As far as he knew _nobody_ had a mindscape like his. If they had then they wouldn't all be so backwards and slaves to their impulsive irrational emotions. When he looked into the distance where an immense orb of gold pulsed warmly, he smirked. ' _That and they would be far, far, far more powerful_ '. His magical core had been arguably the most welcome discovery in his mindscape. It was chained, and Harry was working on breaking those chains. If what he felt when he was in close proximity to it was any indication, Voldemort would have been a cake-walk if it had been released during their battle.

Rubbing his hands together eagerly he approached the orb once more. ' _Time to give this snorkack another shot_.'

Alice quietly read a book she had stolen from the hospital when she'd… acquired a saline drip on the advice of Carlisle. The only sounds in the room now were the rapid beating of Harry's heart, the occasional sound of paper against paper as she turned a page, and the steady dripping sound of the saline.

Alice wished she'd stolen a better book – she really did. She had considered the TV, which was saying a lot considering she hated TV, but she wanted the atmosphere in the room to be as tranquil as possible for Harry. Sighing as she read that, yet again, Jane had forgiven and taken back her cheating husband, she was not at all prepared for the sudden boom that tore through the room, nor the utterly blinding flash of light.

She was blown clear across the room from the explosion, through the entryway into the kitchen, and was only stopped by crashing into, and breaking, the granite countertop. Groaning as she picked herself up off the floor, she shook her head free of the cobwebs and then peered into the bedroom.

"My god," she breathed, cautiously approaching the sight that awaited her. The bed frame had shattered, though amazingly the mattress seemed to have survived the ordeal. Most of the furniture, especially the chair she had been using to sit at Harry's bedside, were now splinters scattered around the room.

And then there was Harry.

Hovering in mid-air above the mattress.

 _Glowing_ with a pulsing miasma of energy surrounding him.

Her sharp eyes could see into that glow, and the ever-changing fractal patterns that swirled within made her dizzy as well as fill with awe. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in the hundred and three years she had existed. Before her very eyes Harry's body slowly lowered back onto the mattress, and she could have sworn that there was a slight smile on his lips.

"Well _shit_ ," Harry grumbled as he shielded his eyes.

He _had_ 'given that snorkack another shot', and he had succeeded. Considering that his magical core had been about the size of a lorry when it was chained, at least at the atomic scale, the fact that it now looked about the size of bloody Hogwarts kinda said something. And it was kinda bright. The feel of the magical power buffeting through his magical pathways made him feel utterly invincible, but he knew it just really wasn't practical if he wanted to stay under any radars.

Sighing at the monumental task he had ahead of him he cracked his knuckles and got to work.

Carlisle stared down at his phone in disbelief as he sat in his office. Alice had just sent a picture to his phone, and for once he was extremely glad she was paranoid enough to encrypt it several times over. "Who and _what_ the hell is this man?" he muttered to himself in disbelief.

"Who is who?"

He spun around in his chair and relaxed when he saw the smiling, beautiful visage of his wife Esme walking towards him. Sighing and offering her a tired smile he threw her the phone, which she caught deftly between her index and middle fingers. Looking down at the screen her eyebrows rose almost into her hairline. Looking at the top of the message her eyebrows rose further. " _This_ young man is why Alice left in such a hurry?"

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, feeling a wave of love and comfort surround him when his wife wrapped her arms around him from behind. "It would appear so. She turned him."

Esme jerked back and then spun his chair around so that she could look him in the eye – her expression conveying her shock. "Carlisle, you know what she vowed to us! She vowed that she would never turn _anybody_ unless that person-"

He held up his hand to halt her and nodded. "I know, my love, trust me I know. Alice had told me that even before the turn this young man could do things even _I_ had never even _conceived_ in my wildest dreams. If Alice and most of the Volturi are anything to go by, in that their gifts were amplified after the turn, then this young man will be incredibly powerful… and even if Alice hasn't considered what it means that she turned him now, then she will soon."

Esme sighed and rubbed her own eyes, now knowing why her husband looked so tired. "Jasper."

Carlisle nodded gravely. "Jasper."

Alice had slowly righted the room as much as she could and now sat on the mattress with Harry's head in her lap – her fingers having somehow made their way into his smooth, now-wavy hair and were stroking it. The glow had subsided nearly two hours ago after a series of slow, room-encompassing pulses of light, and she was utterly at a loss as to what it meant.

Her best theory so far was that her venom had finally gotten to whatever the power it was that this young man used to achieve impossible things and had amplified it. Why it had ceased she had no idea, though the rapidly moving eyes beneath those closed eyelids did make her wonder if Harry was aware in some way and was managing to somehow take control of whatever it was.

Brushing her cool hand again over his fevered forehead she carefully dipped the wet towel back in the container of ice water, wrung it out, and then gently wiped the sweat beading on his face and neck away. Harry was an enigma. She didn't even know his last name, for god's sake! And that was the smallest mystery about him.

The powers he had, the life he'd led, the resilience he had shown in keeping his pure morals and iron determination in the face of obvious and repetitive abuse… how he had clearly fought in a war where death and torture were _not_ the worst things. All of these things would have broken a lesser man… and yet from what little she had seen and heard from him it had only made him stronger.

If she could have blushed a little, she would have. She had to admit that _all_ of those things she found incredibly attractive. It was Jasper's old-fashioned morals and courtesy that had attracted her to _him_ and-

"Shit, Jasper."

Harry James Potter was really, really tired. So far as he knew a magical core was a magical core, so he'd disregarded that completely logical, well-studied and documented concept and split his into seven – figuring that using a powerful magical number would probably be wise.

He was lying next to a well. ' _Well I suppose I can't_ really _call it a well… a tunnel into the ground is more apt methinks.'_ And it was. A really, really wide tunnel – a few hundred meters wide in fact. It led down into an inky blackness that was in all actuality a representation of the entrance into his magical pathways. Currently a single, roaring waterfall of gold cascaded down into it from the north. In the far, far distance at all the major and minor cardinal points – except south – he could see the other cores he had split the original into – all of them ready to blast their power down the channels he had built into the base of the atomic realm and straight into his body in an instant if required.

Each channel had many dams so he could control the flow even further; much like the current channel that was the source of the golden waterfall. If he opened up that channel fully rather than its current twenty percent, he'd have three times the magical power he'd had access to before breaking the magical bindings. With all of his cores at a hundred percent output that meant he had access to twenty-one times more power than he'd ever had access to. The thought was slightly terrifying, which was why he had done what he had. Now an unlikely surge of emotion wouldn't trigger an accidental magic even that'd atomize a city square.

Of course, in the development of building this system he'd come across a rather cleverly hidden _new_ orb in his atomic mindscape. Oh, it had hidden itself quite well, but its appearance was truly confirmation to Harry that what he thought was happening _was_ actually happening. He didn't think that vampirism had ever actually considered somebody might one day look upon it, so its appearance of a floating, churning, and massive ball of blood was sort of a giveaway. That is appeared to have a direct link into the base of his mindscape made sense if what he'd heard about vampires was true, as the base of the mindscape was an interface to his physical being, and it _needed_ that link if he was to have superhuman speed and all that other stuff.

Harry really didn't put much stock in books about 'dark creatures', so he really didn't know the benefits and deficiencies of being a vampire. If the bigotry of the British wizarding world was anything to go by then they'd be woefully slanted against the creatures.

The electrons that had whizzed around this vampiric orb radiated hunger, need, obsession, feralness, desperation and aggression. And Harry really thought he'd enjoy being a vampire much more if he didn't have to deal with all that rubbish, so he'd yanked the electrons away from the nucleus and shoved them into the molecular lattice containing his hate. ' _If those pesky little things try and play up… well,'_ he smirked to himself, 'they won't have a pleasant time of it.'

One of Harry's security drones floated towards him and displayed a message on the screen it had for a face, and he ignored the shoulder-mounted rocket launcher that had a barrel magazine – Harry had to have some fun – to read. "Hm. Looks like it's time to get outa here," he mused. Giving a nod to the drone and a sharp, "Carry on soldier," he suddenly appeared outside of the dome that protected his mind. Giving a small, _very_ cheeky smirk he looked up at the night sky. "Well Mary Alice, it looks like we're finally to meet…"


	5. CHAPTER 3

Just as Carlisle and Esme had predicted Alice, soon after sending the picture of a glowing Harry to her adoptive parents, _had_ realized just what she had done. The fact that Harry was her singer only compounded that sudden realization. Despite being a touchy-feely and very social vampire, she'd never felt the level of contentedness she had with Harry's head on her lap and her delicate fingers trailing soothingly through her hair.

She could _still_ taste his blood on her lips despite having departed for a hunt several hours prior, and his _scent_. She had ignored it and lied to herself that it was just a sire thing until she simply couldn't ignore it any longer. It was divine, _intoxicating_ even. Like fresh rain and deep, wild forest, and a base earthy musk that had her hands trailing across his defined muscles more than once before she caught herself and snatched her hands away to safer areas.

She knew what it meant in simple terms; that he was the one made for _her_. Just her; perfect in every way _just for her_. And while the thought made a bubbling tinkle of joy erupt from her mouth every time she thought of it, there was Jasper. And she hadn't been able to see the outcome of any of this because ever since she had bitten her Harry- ' _MY Harry? When the hell did I start thinking of him as mine?'_ she hadn't been able to see the future at all. The presence that had guided her to Harry too was gone, and it both scared her and felt as if the weight of the world had fallen from her shoulders.

The fact was that she and Jasper had been by one another's side, albeit platonically, for over five decades – and she treasured that relationship dearly. Unfortunately for her, she was well aware that Jasper held more than innocent feelings for her and wished to be more than just 'close friends', and if she was honest with herself, she _had_ given taking it further some thought in recent years. And now this had happened; she had found her soul mate; a man she had no doubt she would come to deeply love and, she desperately hoped, would quickly come to return those feelings. And it the thought of the eternity of love they would share made her feel a torrent of emotions that had threatened to overwhelm her with joy and anticipation. But she also felt a twinge – no, a burn of guilt.

That she had not outright stated to Jasper 'no' and was now smitten with a man she barely knew… that would not go down well, and it would hurt her oldest and best friend deeply. Looking down into the calm face of her mate she sighed and finally gave into the burning temptation, leaning down and pressing her lips to his forehead before retreating. "Why did it have to be like this Harry?" she asked rhetorically to the dead silence, and then stiffened and froze in shock.

"Life can be complicated Mary Alice," a smooth, silky baritone answered, and her eyes slowly looked down to her lap in uncomprehending disbelief. The deepest, clearest, and most stunning pair of ruby eyes stared up at her from a perfectly sculpted, flawless face that a small smile rested upon.

In a movement so fast she barely saw he was standing by the side of the mattress, looking himself over with a raised eyebrow. "Damn, I just _knew_ those books were a load of shite." Turning his head over his shoulder at the still-frozen, wide-eyed, pixie-like vampire he felt a deep, but divine burning deep in his chest as he truly looked her over for the first time. From the perfect, petite dancer's feet all the way to the tips of her wild, pixie-cut hair she looked like what he would envisage an angel fallen from heavens would. Shaking himself of his thoughts, but still feeling the burn he hoped would never disappear from where his heart once lay, he smiled warmly at her. "I'll be back in a moment, I just need to go to the bathroom."

She remained as still as a statue and he chuckled to himself before smoothly walking towards where he could smell soap. ' _I mean I was planning on jumping up and screaming BRAAIIINNS! But after that wee kiss on the forehead it_ would've _been a bit of a dick move._ '

Back in the bedroom Alice's brain finally rebooted and she scrambled for her phone, hearing a throaty laugh from the bathroom. ' _Damn vampiric hearing_ ' she cussed to herself and tapped her foot impatiently as the phone rang. She thanked God for vampiric speed, because it picked up after less than two rings. "Alice, is it happening?" he asked quickly, and her brain short-circuited for a moment.

"Ah, err, well no. It's already happened. About maybe a few seconds ago," she explained uncertainly.

Esme's voice was the next she heard, sounding worried. "Do you need help Alice? How bad is he?"

Ambling back into the room grinning and, to Alice's shock, dressed in a pair of grey slacks and a black silk shirt with its cuffs rolled half-way up his forearms. "Well Ma'am, I'm pretty confident in saying I feel pretty bloody good for a dead guy!"

Alice stared at him with wide eyes, and he sent her a wink before heading over and, with a roguish grin, leaned down to her small frame and pressed a lingering but gentle kiss to her forehead. The moment his lips touched her skin Harry felt the fire in his chest explode with passion and a deep, pure feeling he had never before felt. Alice, on the other hand, felt her legs go weak and what almost felt like a surge of soothing yet fervent lava burst through her still veins.

Harry reluctantly, _very_ reluctantly pulled back and was pleased to see the yearning to feel that again in her deep amber eyes; a sentiment he had no doubt were reflected in his own. "Erm… would that be Mister Harry?" came a wary feminine voice, and Harry continued staring into Alice's eyes as he replied; not wanting to look away.

"Yes Ma'am, and it's just Harry – Harry James Potter, but just Harry Ma'am. Mister makes me sound old." After a moment he snorted and his eyes crinkled slightly with humour. "Guess I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Even Alice cracked an impish grin at that and winked at him, earning a deep, throaty laugh that sent pleasant shivers down her spine. Despite the fact that she had so many questions and she was still utterly flummoxed that he had come out of the change as if he'd just woken up from a regular sleep, minus the heartbeat, she sat down on the mattress. After resting her back against the wall, placing the phone before her crossed legs, she motioned that he should sit in front of her.

Sending her a smirk he disregarded where she had motioned and earned himself a squeal mixed with a tinkling laugh as he leaned down, lifted her bodily up, and then sat down himself. Still giggling she felt herself get lowered back onto the bed and felt her head come to rest on his lap – his handsome face looking winningly down at her, eliciting another giggle. "My turn missy." Not really caring about going too fast at that moment, she all but purred as his hand ran lazily through her hair; her eyes closing and a wide grin stretching her lips.

"Alice, are you alright," came Carlisle's concerned voice, and she laughed, still relishing in the feel of her mate's presence and drinking in his alluring scent.

"I am just fine Carlisle, just fine. Now Harry I think you should explain to us if you know why you're not freaking out and thirsting mindlessly for blood."

"Ah, the hunger? Locked it up, not too hard really. I mean there's like a… I dunno, like a slight dryness in my throat I guess, but I'd assume that's a physiological vampiric reaction. The psychological hunger and burning _need_ for blood I didn't want to deal with."

Alice's eyes stared up into his, and her expression had twisted into one of utter confusion. "You… you don't feel the need for blood?" came Esme's doubtful voice, and Harry shrugged, continuing his ministrations on Alice's hair. "Nope." He looked down at Alice with a raised eyebrow. "Judging by the broken furniture in the corner I really hope you've got an excuse for whoever owns this place."

Her expression of confusion turned into puzzlement. "Err, not really… why is that?"

"Because I can smell a person's scent in this house other than yours, and the person with that scent is about to knock on the door."

There was a second's silence as Alice's eyes widened in horror before voices were yelling over the phone and she was trying to grab him and restrain him. Rolling his eyes, he easily pushed her off and sighed when she charged at him again, looking terrified. Grabbing her into a bear-hug, pinning her arms to her sides he chuckled; the vibrations from his chest causing Alice to shiver in delight despite the horror and desperation she was feeling. "Harr-mph!" he used one of his hands to pull her face into his chest and calmly stroked her hair.

For the moment he ignored the yelling voices on the phone and just gently calmed Alice. He felt a deep connection to her, and she would always come first – besides, he didn't even know the names of the people on the phone. "Alice, listen to me very carefully. I _smelled_ them coming, and where am I right now? Am I rushing off mindlessly to drain them until they are a husk?" he asked quietly beside her ear, receiving a shiver, and then she thought about what he said and stopped her struggling. Smiling Harry released her and winked before ambling towards the door as the knock came, making the voices on the phone become even more frantic. Opening the door, he stepped outside and closed it behind him. That fear quickly turned into amazement and confusion as she listened to the conversation – not the sounds of tearing flesh as she had feared – but then turned to horror and then utter embarrassment. "Oh my God he did _not_ just do that!" If she could have blushed, she was sure her entire body would be red. Picking up the phone she told the two to shut up and then sputtered when she heard Harry say something else.

"Alice honey," Esme's desperate voice came from the phone, "please, tell us what is happening – you must stop him! Now he's got a taste of human blood-"

"Esme," Alice hissed, mortified as she heard the owner give a loud laugh at yet _another_ thing Harry had said, "Harry is having a bloody conversation with the owner, alright! He's not bloody feeding!"

"Alice… you told us you were staying in a human town," Carlisle's voice hedged carefully and Alice finally exploded as her embarrassment hit an all-time high as Harry said something else that, she was sure even though she was a vampire made her blush.

"For _fuck's_ sake Carlisle, yes! We're in a human town in a cottage with a human owner, that Harry, my new-born vampire, is out there saying that because it's our bloody honeymoon me and him got a little carried away and broke the bed, and the kitchen bench got broken because – oh god is that even a thing?!" Hearing one last laugh from the owner the door opened again and Harry walked in with a cocky smirk on his face as he waggled his eyebrows at her, laughing when she sputtered. After he closed the door, he grinned even wider at her and held his arms out wide.

"Ready for round twelve my dear wife? Maybe we can break the shower this time!" The soundless phone fell from Alice's fingers, and a moment later Harry was on the floor laughing his arse off as Alice wailed on him. Unbeknownst to her he'd erected a body-fitting protego to ensure she didn't do any damage, but the fact that her blows to his chest didn't seem to be having any effect apart from making him laugh harder only made her even angrier. Slowly her blows slowed and her own lips twitched, and when he grinned knowingly at her she finally broke down and collapsed onto his chest with laughter shaking her small body.

Chuckling he leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her head, making her tense for a moment before seeming to melt; her laughs softening into a satisfied hum. Knowing that the phone she dropped was nearby and her parents would hear her Alice turned her head and rested her cheek against Harry's chest – eyes closed. "Carlisle, Esme, calm. My Harry, my new-born, just stood right in front of a human whose heartrate was elevated from the walk down to the cottage, and talked with him for a good couple of minutes."

Harry felt a thrill of pleasure rumble through him at the way she had claimed him as _her_ Harry, but then jerked into a sitting position, his arms encircling Alice to ensure he didn't buck her off him. He stared worriedly down into her eyes, "Alice – Voldemort! The man I was fighting-"

"He's dead," she soothed softly, her hand coming to cup his cheek, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Good… good," he muttered, closing his eyes and drawing comfort from her touch. He relished in the feelings for a moment before reaching over and picking up the phone. "Sorry Carlisle, Esme, but I need to talk to Alice privately for a bit. Is it alright if we call you back?"

"Of course, Harry," came Carlisle's silky voice, and Harry thanked him before hanging up and peering down at Alice who was looking up at him in confusion; cocooned in his arms and sitting comfortably in his lap.

"Mary Alice," he said softly, and something occurred to her. Her eyes conveyed confusion, and he smiled softly at her. "How did I know your name; your _real_ name right after waking from the change?" At her nod he smiled and pulled her head gently to her chest once more; his hands automatically caressing her hair and his chin coming to rest against the crown of her head. "The powers above told me that I should tell you that they are _very_ happy with you." She stiffened slightly, and he could almost smell the confusion on her.

"Fate realises that your precognition was both a gift and a curse for you," he explained, feeling her sag in disbelief.

"I- I've never told you about that," she whispered against his shirt, and he smiled.

"No. Nor did you ever tell me your name was Mary Alice. Fate believes that you have suffered the gift of foresight enough and that it is time you have that weight lifted from your shoulders. Seeing the future is no longer your burden to bear, _my_ Alice." He felt her shiver when he said that, and her hands clutch even tighter onto his shirt. "I died, Alice. I passed over and was told by Death himself that. While I was undergoing the change, I thought about what Death said and what I then knew about you… selective precognition. There would be no surprises, no anticipation because you'd already know the outcome, no spontaneity. And all of that, Alice, I _swear_ to you I shall give you."

He felt Alice move and allowed her to pull back slightly from his embrace to look at him. Ruby met amber, and she leaned up and did the only thing she thought such words deserved. Both shivered in delight as fire erupted and their lips softly touched. They could both feel that fire begging to be unchained, but neither wanted to ruin the purity of that moment. The touch lingered, lips softly moving against one another until, after what felt like an eternity, they slowly parted. Harry rested his forehead on hers and they simply sat there, eyes closed and indulging themselves in one another's presence and the fire rumbling in their chests.

Finally, Harry sighed with a small smile and pulled his forehead from hers, replacing it with his lips for a moment before retreating with a small smile. "As much as I wish I could stay here with you in my arms for eternity, Alice, I need to head back to where my friends were doing battle. I don't know if they won or if they're dead-"

She smiled sadly up at him but he could see the hurt in her eyes as she placed a finger over his lips. "I understand Harry."

Wondering for a moment he understood and sent her a chiding smile. "You _do_ realise you're coming with me, right?" Her eyes immediately lit up and a bright smile broke out onto her face, but that quickly dimmed when she looked outside… at the very clear sky and bright sun. Harry understood immediately. "Ah, the sparkling thing?"

Her head snapped around to look at him and cocked to the side. "How do you know about that?"

"Well the owner commented that I was all sparkly and when I looked down low-and-behold I sparkled like one of Prince's costumes." She gaped at him and he waved his hand before leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. "Why'd you think I mentioned to him how glitter-play can be sexy as hell?"

Guffawing quickly dissolved into giggles, and he laughed before waving his hand over himself, and her laughter caught in her throat. Still standing tall and muscular, Harry looked at her and grinned. "How in the _hell_ did you do that?" she all but blurted out, and he chuckled before holding up his hand. "Give me a second." She watched as he waved his hand over himself a couple more times and then turned front-on to her with a grin. "What do you think?"

She stepped forward, not really believing what her eyes were showing her, and cupped the slightly tanned cheek in her hand before jerking back with wide eyes. "You… you're warm and… is that- is that your _heartbeat_?"

"Yes, yes it is. Well it's the _illusion_ of a heartbeat and tanned skin… and breathing and blinking."

"How in the heck do you _do_ that?" she asked incredulously, and he sent her a wry grin.

"Well, by using magic? I am a wizard. Well a vampire wizard, really." She stared at him, disbelief clear, and he shrugged. "Well, erm, what's your favourite animal-"

"Mountain lions," she interrupted firmly, and he laughed. Pulling her into the bedroom he wiggled his finger at the broken wood pushed into the corner, and she stared with wide eyes when it almost seemed to twist in on itself and warp itself into a snarling mountain lion, which Harry quite quickly reversed back into a pile of wood. Staring up at him with almost childish glee she beamed. "That. Was. Awesome!"

He laughed and then stepped back from her, giving a wink. "Let's see if I can still do this as a vampire." He closed his eyes in concentration and Alice's eyes widened in awe as she watched Harry's body lengthen and blur and grow until before her stood a panther that towered above her in height, nearly touching the roof. Feeling rather cramped the massive panther curled up to fit the room better and lay on his haunches, his head coming to rest on his forepaws. Alice, an uncontrollable grin on her lips, saw the panther's lips curl into a grin and felt something behind her shove her towards the giant cat. Looking behind her, she saw a long, thick tail and laughed before walking forward and scratching underneath Harry's chin.

She almost squealed at how cute it was when a cabin-rattling purr vibrated the entire cottage, and suddenly Harry was in front of her once more – immediately being engulfed in a crushing hug by Alice. "Thank you," she beamed into his chest.

She didn't have to say what for. Before she never would have felt that child-like wonder and awe, because she already would've seen the surprise coming. That and, Harry thought, magic was just awesome. "I'm going to fill your life with that feeling Alice," he promised quietly, and she beamed into his chest.

It took them thirty minutes to get ready to leave, and only ten of it was Harry magically repairing everything. Alice was overwhelmed at both her reflection when Harry placed the glamour over her as well as the cocoon of warmth that was the warming charm, Harry had explained. And gods, the sound of a heartbeat coming from _her_ chest!

After dropping by the farmstead and thanking the owner for having them, receiving a knowing smirk from the elderly man and, much to Alice's shock feeling the heat of a blush rocket over her cheeks, they hopped in Alice's car and begun driving to where she explained the forest was where she had found him. Alice hated driving slowly, but did so anyways so that they could quickly call Carlisle and Esme to tell them that they'd be out of contact for a while, but that Alice would be bringing Harry home within a few days.

Esme gushed at that proclamation, and Carlisle had laughed before wishing them well and disconnecting. Harry wryly turned to Alice. "Taking me home to meet the parents, are you?"

She blanched a little and cast a worried look at him as she drove. "Err… sorry, I guess I just assumed that you would be coming home…. With me."

Harry couldn't be annoyed when she said that. Hell, it made him want to grin with pride that she wanted him to go with her. _Be_ with her if he'd understood her tone right. He laid his hand over hers on the gearstick and gave a quiet chuckle. "It might have been nice to be consulted on the matter Alice, but if you think I'm going anywhere without you anytime soon you've got another thing coming." She beamed at him and he couldn't help but mirror her. Soon enough his smile faded and a small frown crossed his face as he looked at the road speeding by. "In fact, getting away from this country for a while is probably a good idea. As soon as the Ministry hears that I killed Voldemort I'll get not a moment's peace, and all I want to do right now is have exactly that.

"I've been fighting a war for the last seven years of my life – I'm not letting corrupt and greedy politicians parade me around like a puppy on a leash to the press for their own benefit."

"Is it really that bad?"

He chuckled bitterly. "The magical world's laws and way that society works is right out of Victorian times. Bloodlines determine your standing in society, they still use _quills_ for Merlin's sake, they still think muggles-"

"Muggles?"

"Ah," he chuckled casting her a dry glance, "non-magicals. Well they think that non-magicals still travel by horse and cart. Money buys everything, even votes on the governing body or getting away with murder. There are no libel laws so the press can print whatever lies they want, and there hasn't been a magical breakthrough discovery in over fifty years. They are, by all accounts, the most isolated and arse-backwards society I think I've ever experienced."

Alice stared at him, her mouth opening once, then closing, then opening again a fraction. "Err… wow. Just… yeah, wow."

"That about sums it up my dear Alice," he chuckled and he felt her grip on the gearstick tighten and a shudder run through her. He looked at her and saw her trying to hide a beaming grin and felt a secret smile of his own cross his lips. Apparently, vampires were very territorial, and having ownership claimed over you by, Harry hoped he was reading it right, something like their mate was incredibly exciting.

Now that he thought about it, when she had called him 'my Harry' he'd had almost the same reaction. ' _Must be a primal, ingrained instinct,_ ' he thought to himself. Soon enough they were flitting through the trees, and once they were well away from the road, he allowed the vampiric hunger 'electron' come a little closer to his vampiric core.

His head snapped to the left, and Alice caught the movement, grinning herself when she saw his hungry smirk and wink before he tore off to the west. She followed several trees behind him, and then came to a silent halt beside him when he too stopped. Looking down she saw a herd of deer, and then snapped her head towards Harry when a wave of red washed over the entire group of animals and they all collapsed to the ground as if dead. She looked at his outstretched hand in wonder, and he chuckled before dropping down off the branch and landing silently on the forest floor.

"Why the whole heard, you'll probably only need a couple?"

"If I wanted to kill them, then yes, I would only need a couple."

Her eyes widened, and then she felt a surge of pride in her mate as she watched him approach the closest doe before leaning down and gently biting into its neck. She heard the deer's heartbeat slowing and thought she'd have to intervene – especially as this was her mate's first hunt, but felt that pride swell even more when Harry carefully withdrew, healed the bite-wound, and then muttered a quiet thanks for the blood before moving onto the next dear and repeating the action.

After he had drank from the second deer he looked up and smiled, wiping a smear of blood from his lip and then sucking it off his finger. "Come on, there's plenty to go around my Alice. After you drink enough just call me and I'll heal the wound." Beaming, as it was an unspoken declaration of incredible trust for a vampire to share the results of his or her hunt, she approached the stag of the herd and followed Harry's actions. Feeling the hunger electron calm, Harry sealed the last wound and then walked over to where Alice was latched onto the neck of a rather groomed looking doe, a low moan in her throat testament to the taste of the blood.

Hearing his quiet chuckle, she withdrew, blood coating her lips, and Harry shocked her by kneeling down and kissing her. She couldn't help the aroused moan that she breathed into his mouth. The taste of the sweet blood being stirred in her mouth by his gently probing tongue and the feel of his powerful hand resting gently on the back of her head was easily the most erotic experience of her entire life. After several moments Harry withdrew and licked his lips, looking almost as dazed as she was. "Wow…"

"Yeah," she breathed quietly in awe. She'd never even _thought_ of ever doing something like that, but after experiencing it once it was something she was already planning on repeating in the very near future. The two took a moment to gather themselves, smiling almost shyly at one another, before they retreated back into the trees. She watched amazed as a wave of blue light rippled across the herd and all the deer seemed to awaken – those that had been drunk from a little more sluggishly than the rest, before continuing to graze as if nothing had happened. "You're amazing," she whispered so quietly only he heard, and he returned her look of adoration.

"You just wait until I show you how you're even more incredible than you ever thought you were." She felt a rush of warmth roll over her and shivered at the promise, and he smiled widely before gesturing to the north. "Shall we my mate?"

Alice felt as if her heart had just leapt into her throat and a sharp gasp escaped her, causing the herd below to flee. "Y-your mate?"

He heard the warble in her normally perfectly toned voice and knew he'd hit the nail on the head. He had wanted to ensure that both he and her had defined what _they_ together were before arriving at Hogwarts, and it had just felt like the right time to do so – especially after the experience they had just shared. There was no doubt in his mind that mates were _exactly_ what they were after the flood of overwhelming emotions and closeness they had just experienced with one another. "Yes," he confirmed softly, cupping her cheek in his palm and looking deep into her glamoured-hazel eyes. " _My_ mate."

He saw her eyelids flutter for a second and her weight come to rest more heavily against him for a moment before she raised her hand and cupped his own cheek. The smile that curved her lips was the most beautiful and joyous Harry had ever seen on _anybody_. "Yes, yours… always and for an eternity _yours_." She felt his entire body tense at her words and his gaze truly looked _smouldering_. When her other hand came to rest on his chest where his heart once beat her gaze too became intense and heated. " _Mine_ ," she growled possessively, " _my_ mate."

Harry felt the fire that had burned in his chest since the moment he first laid eyes on her small, lithe form explode into a bonfire. His next action felt so natural and yet had never been done in the history of vampirism. He felt venom well up in his mouth and fixed her with a burning hot stare that she thought was too intense to be real. He leaned down and her eyes closed, only to open in confusion and then shock when he whispered in her ear instead of kissing her. "As your venom flows through my veins, so too will mine through yours. Two become one." When she felt his fangs pierce her neck and venom pour into her the world exploded. Her legs buckled and her eyes fluttered uncontrollably. A keening wail of pleasure built from a whine and erupted from her mouth; her fangs fully extended as wave upon wave upon wave of drowning pleasure crashed through her.

Harry held her standing as he tasted her venom and his mix within her, and he too shuddered in bliss. As her wail quietened, he slowly withdrew and held her as she sobbed into his shoulder; her embrace crushing as she gently peppered kisses across his just-exposed collarbone. "Two as one," she whispered before sinking her fangs into almost exactly the same spot she had first bitten him. There was no explosion as there had been when he had bitten her, as both their venoms already ran through his veins, but there was a profound sense of completion for both; as if Harry's body was welcoming her home, and hers him. Pulling back, she gently licked the puncture wounds, though they were already healing, and then looked into his eyes.

No words needed to be said. Neither knew how what had happened actually happened, but they understood what it _was_ , what it _meant_ , and both could see the emotions in each other's eyes caused by that profound experience. They had known each other for three and a half days, and only a few hours with Harry conscious. Alice finally understood what Esme had told her about the day she found Carlisle. They would become intimately knowledgeable about each other's lives in time, but there was not a shred of doubt in Alice's, nor Harry's, mind that they knew each other enough to know that what was said was meant without a shadow of a doubt.

Smiling silently with love in their eyes, the two disappeared back into the murky darkness of the forest.


End file.
